Limitations
by kunoichi-raiya
Summary: PostSSarc. The class of Karakura High goes on a field trip to a nature reserve... but what happens when they run across something more sinister than your average wildlife? Potential IchiRuki. Also, first fic... you’ve been warned.
1. The Field Trip

Hey kids, kunoichi-raiya is here to torment you all with her very first fic! MUAHAHHAHA! ...No, really, I apologize in advance for the bad pacing and lack of plotwise direction and such. Hope you'll be able to endure.

Spoiler warning! (sort of) This fic takes place right after the SS-arc.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach... more like Bleach owns me! ...Close enough, right?

* * *

**Limitations**

It was a crisp, dewy afternoon when the bus pulled up at the reserve, bringing with it a pack of high school students on their first weekend field trip. Music pumping in his headphones, the orange-haired boy named Ichigo stared out of the window. He'd spent the past thirty minutes grinding his teeth and pointedly trying to ignore Renji's endless jabs, taunts, and stupid comments, having heard from his friends that ignoring the tattoo-faced idiot was the best way to get him to shut up. _Cheh! They lied. The only thing I'm getting out of this is even MORE idiocy on Renji's part_, he thought. _Not to mention one hell of a migrane._

You see, normally he wouldn't be doing this. Normally, he'd be in Renji's face, spewing out whatever invective popped into his head.

_Okay, deep breath,_ he told himself, pulling on Karin's advice._ One. Two. Three... Four... _Twitch. He needed something to punch-- no, deep breath again. _Four. Five. Six, seven eight nine--_

Argh. He was gonna snap any moment now. If he could get in one good hit... just ONE--

"HYEEEEEEAAAAAH!" That was Keigo, diving off the bus. For once in his life Ichigo found him a welcome distraction. "Ha ha! This is totally SWEET, guys! Hot babes, hot tubs, romps through the forest-- _oof!_"

He was interrupted by a swift kick to the face. "Shut it, Keigo. You're going to scare off all the wildlife for ten miles around."

"Tatsukiiii-chaaan! Who CARES about wildlife? It's all about the romantic frolics! The social interactio--"

"Screw the social interaction!" She lodged her foot on his chest. "We are getting a good grade on our project, for once. And what's all this crap about 'hot babes'? Didn't I tell you not to look at other girls while you're with me? Ah? Ah?"

"Aaaaiiiiiiieeee!" wailed Keigo as he was lobbed up and down by the hair in the hands of an irate Tatsuki. "T-that's not how I meant it!"

The pair's antics raised a laugh in the energetic crowd that was now exiting the bus. Mizuiro came first, chatting amiably to the two fawning girls who were glued to his arms. After him followed a cluster of their giggling girl friends, then Orihime, with Chad, Ishida, and most of the other males of the class walking close behind. As always, that shrimp Hitsugaya was barely visible, except for the points of his spiky silver hair.

As Renji stomped off the bus, Ichigo trailed after the entire group while sparing a brief, sympathetic glance for Keigo. More than once, he'd been on the receiving end of one of Tatsuki's brutal attacks... apparently her new boyfriend of two weeks still had a lot to learn.

Finally, the last passenger-- a short, serious-looking girl in an airy summer dress-- emerged from the doorway. She was fumbling with her pack in extreme frustration.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"Eh? What?" Ichigo said, breaking away from the group.

"The stupid traveling-pack is broken!"

"Ahhh... not again," he muttered, walking over and snatching the pack from her. "It's a backpack. And it's not broken, Rukia. You pull the zipper up-" he demonstrated, "not OUT."

"I see," said Rukia sagely for what must have been the tenth time that day. "You make it look so simple, Kurosaki-kun!"

"That's because it IS simple."

With an irritated grunt, he tossed her the pack, knowing it was only a few minutes before his assistance would be required again. It was beyond him how someone so smart in battle strategics could be such an idiot when it came to things like... zippers. And straws.Yet he couldn't help but feel a little smug at being able to help her. It felt good to know something that Rukia didn't.

Glancing over, the carrot-headed boy caught a glimpse of her face– bright with something like genuine happiness. He scoffed. _Nope_, he told himself, _it's definitely not because of that silly little smile on her face. Or the way her eyes light up when I come to help her out._

..._Not at all._

* * *

That evening...

Everything was stacked away, and the students gathered around the campfire to relax after a day of project work. Today they'd had their first assignment-- to collect and identify ten different types of bugs. The idea of handling hairy centipedes had made Rukia shudder, but her worries turned out to be unfounded. They'd found an assortment of beetles, butterflies and ants without any trouble, marked down various slots under their charts, and resolved to check with Ishida later for the real answers.

"I am not giving you the real answers," said Ishida stiffly over his mug of cocoa.

There was a collective protest. "Aww, come on man!" "Don't be stingy!" He set the mug down with a clatter.

"Stop asking. If you wanted a good grade you should have done the work yourselves. I refuse to accomodate slackers."

"But I thought you'd help us!" wailed Keigo.

"You thought wrong." He stood to leave, with a sharp glint in his glasses that seemed to finalize the matter.

"Hey!" called out a voice from the group. "What about Inoue-san?"

"Yeah, you gave the answers to HER!"

Ishida went stiff in the back. "T-that's different. Inoue-san helped me to collect the bugs. Unlike you lazy freeloaders," he finished vehemently.

Hitsugaya cast his eyes over at the girl skeptically. She was sleeping (which was probably to her benefit.) "Is that so," he drawled. "Wasn't she running around talking to butterflies for half the time?"

Someone called out. "Hey... do you think Ishida-san's got a crush on Inoue?"

"Ooh, maybe THAT's why he isn't giving us the answers."

"Hmm..."

"Hey look you guys, he's turning re-"

"Shut up!" cried Ishida, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Look, I can give answers to whoever I want, okay?"

A hush fell over the group. They watched the blood rising in Ishida's face expectantly.

Finally, Mizuiro said truimphantly, "So you DO like Inoue-san!"

"Hah! Who would've thought-"

"Gahh! Idiots! You don't understand anything." He yanked out the papers and thrust them into Keigo's outstretched hand. "Fine. But you are not to smudge or wrinkle my notes if you value your lives. They will be returned in PERFECT condition."

"Yeeeaah!" A general cheer broke out in the group.

"Thanks, Ishida-san! You're the best-"

"I owe you big time-"

"We'll take gooood care of these for you. Heh heh."

"Tch." With a noise not unlike Ichigo's signature scoff, the Quincy stalked off, muttering. "As if! How dare they try to insinuate..."

Blushes were hard to hide on a face as pale as Ishida's, Ichigo noted in amusement as his friend left the campfire. Ever since their return from Soul Society, his behavior towards Orihime had been more... how to say it... solicitous than usual. Honestly, even Ichigo had noticed-- and it's not like he was paying special attention to the Quincy's love life. But whatever Uryu's attentions, they were completely lost on the clueless girl. She was apparently stuck on the idea that Ishida liked Rukia. Rukia! Of all the damn people to choose. Personally Ichigo thought mixing Ishida and Rukia was like mixing sherbert and hot sauce-- completely stupid and contradictory.

_But then again, sherbert with hot sauce is probably exactly the sort of thing that Orihime would think of..._

"What are you smirking at?" Rukia's voice. Her real voice, at last-- not the fake 'Miss Kuchiki' drawl that she affected when others were paying attention. The din of the campfire party was apparently enough for her to relax her guise.

"The look on that idiot's face," he gestured. "It was so obvious."

"Ah," agreed Rukia, settling into the space next to him. "If someone like you could pick up on it, it must have been."

Grr. "At least I'm perceptive enough to figure out how to work a zipper."

WHACK.

"Ow!" Where on earth did she keep those fans? Ichigo rubbed his sore head, burning under Rukia's slap. "Cheh. Stop hitting me just because you know I'm right."

WHACK.

"Ah, don't worry, Kurosaki-kun!" She sang out sweetly. "I hit you because I FEEL like it."

Ichigo blinked in pain and then glared at her, both hands now laid protectively over his throbbing scalp. She was smiling at him in an incredibly annoying fashion. "Hey! Where's the justice in that!"

"Since when are you a big fan of justice?" returned Rukia. "Need I remind you who exactly came and snatched me away from my lawful execution?"

"Well geez. I wouldn't have bothered to come if I knew you'd make such a big fuss over it, you ingrate," said Ichigo airily.

In spite of his tone, he felt a sudden sinking feeling assault him at her reference to the execution.

It was meant as a jest, he knew, but he still felt his insides twisting at the thought of Rukia suspended beneath that gigantic bird-of-hell. Never, he knew, no matter what the circumstances, would he have let the Soul Society and its stupid rules take an innocent life. Rukia's life. And she had been through enough of her own torture; knowing her, probably self-imposed. He'd never asked, but the moment he'd looked into her eyes as she waited, unresistingly, for death... he'd seen hints of her inner scars... and they were deeper than he ever could have imagined.

What kind of past could leave scars like that? He couldn't help but wonder.

"Ichigo?"

"Eh?" Rukia was throwing him a puzzled glance. More specifically, his fist. He unclenched it with some effort. "Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking."

Looking up, he suddenly noticed that the campfire was dwindling, and threw it a stick. The uproar from earlier had subsided... it seemed that some people had decided to hit the sleeping bags already. Now the sun was starting to go down, bathing the site in brilliant orange light in a way only a Karakura sunset could. Putting aside his questions, he kicked the nearby embers, got up and stretched.

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go catch some Zs. See ya," he finished lightly, not looking behind him as he walked towards the tents.

* * *

Rukia stayed behind long afterwards, just staring at the pulsing glow of the fire. Then she scoffed and lifted herself up.

"Idiot. I can't get you to stop worrying about me, can I?" Her voice was soft. "It would have been better if you'd never known me at all..."

Kicking dust over the fire, she absently left the camp. It was dark, and still as ice. Even the chirping of crickets was gone.

Behind her, the pitch of night was broken only by a pair glowing, blue eyes... eyes that watched her carefully out of those all-too-silent shadows.

"...It's her."

* * *

(TBC) 


	2. A Mysterious Enemy

**A/N:** Wow, guys, you'll have to bear with me because evidently my writing moves at about the same pace as a snail marathon. Ehehe. (dodges brickbats and bowls of hot-sauce-flavored sherbert) Still, much love to Princess Berry, RedBloodedTalisman, Purple1, Ryukansen, SilverGhostKitsune, l33t AvengerBlossom, and Newind (also, for not making me eat that awful concoction :P ) for reviewing my first fic! You guys/gals are muchos awesomeos and encourage me to keep trying to write this fic. Thanks so much!

Aaanyways, chapters two and three are up at last. Still gotta work on pacing– hopefully the upcoming chapters will start moving a bit faster. Enjoy!

(ducks out before she is killed for her awful n00b Spanglish-- and writing)

**Disclaimer: **Series and characters aren't mine, they're Kubotite's. Yes, I do cry myself to sleep at night... but only occasionally.

* * *

**Limitations**

Chapter 2: A Mysterious Enemy

* * *

A light glimmered briefly beyond what looked like a solid line of maples. Behind the trees, completely cloaked by the night, lines of deep purple and black swirled soundlessly to form a barrier around the clearing within. The space inside was dimly lit, like a room with a broken lamp. There, two figures stood alert as if on guard. Rather than casting light over their faces, the dull cast of the room seemed to actually draw the shadows up from underneath them.

"It's her," spoke a soft, childish voice from one, as her glowing eyes rotated back from the forest.

"Who's her?" drawled the other figure.

Out of the pitch black came a small -pop!- . Something fizzled, and then above them, tiny, sticky tendrils of yellow light crept down to form a cage along the barrier's insides, like a dripping spiderweb.

This brighter light revealed two faces. One was smirking, with angular features and a pointed jaw; they seemed to belong to a boy of around nineteen. His hard, yellow hair covered his head in a jagged fringe, cut straight through the center by a sharp black lock. He wore a yellow-and-black bodysuit to match, with a bold white zipper slicing diagonally down the front like a streak of lightning across a dark sky.

The other face was small, round and babylike, belonging to a girl who looked about ten. She had rounded, silvery white hair that hung thickly around her head and obscured all but her ice-blue, glowing eyes. She had masked any trace of her lips and nose behind the tall white collar of her dress, but it was easy to imagine a petite mouth to match that china-fragile voice.

"Who exactly is her, Nina?" repeated the yellow-haired boy irritably.

"My shinigami," the girl nearly whispered. "My... Kuchiki Rukia."

Her younger companion didn't look impressed. "That's yours? Whatever. She looks like a shrimp to me. Oh well, not like mine is any better." He briefly pictured the short shinigami with the freakishly white hair that he'd selected. Hitsu-something Toushiro. The thought made him even more impatient.

"...When is Zhelyazko gonna get his skinny arse over here, anyways? He sure is taking his time."

"Patience, Dragomir."

There was a barely audible whoosh and suddenly what looked like a tall black plant sprouted up in front of them. However, as the shape unfolded to reveal legs and arms, it was obvious that this was no plant, but a shockingly tall, slender man.

"Privyet," uttered the young man carelessly.

"Privyet," the tall man responded without warmth. "And hello, my little Ninochka."

The white dressed girl curtsied silently.

"Zhelyazko, they're here," burst out the one called Dragomir. "What are you waiting for? We could fight them right now!"

"Don't be a fool," said the tall man roughly. "Or did you want to fight all six of them at once?"

"Well, what other plan do you have?"

Zhelyazko half-smirked. "I've sent out our little bird, to scout out the shinigami and their human friends. And Anton will know their plans, of course."

"And? What then?" Dragomir's eyes seemed to glow with their own intensity, and his fists clenched. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt that rush of adrenaline that came from a good fight. The older man sighed in mock exasperation.

"There really is no quenching your bloodlust, is there, Dragomir?" He withdrew sticklike fingers from his forehead. "Very well. You shall fight first. Just don't expect any other of the Shesta to help you."

Dragomir grinned, electricity crackling from his fists. "Like I need your help. Just watch me." He spread out his arms, and a net of yellow light shot out across the ground on all sides. "You'll all be jealous when I get my shinigami first."

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushiro shivered and sat up in bed. Which was odd, because a guy who knew ice backwards and forwards like him had no reason to shiver. He reached out for Hyourinmaru, which was lying sheathed under his pillow; the cool, leather-wrapped hilt was a comfort to his hands.

The white haired boy swung over and hit the bedlight next to his low bunk. He had wisely opted for the bottom level, after Ikkaku-san and that moron, Keigo, had gotten into a fistfight over who would sleep up top.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. As if such things even mattered when they were supposed to be on alert for the Arrancar.

For some reason, he decided to open the window and stick his head out. Just earlier, some weird touch had tugged on his senses. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have woken up otherwise. But the sensation had faded, and wasn't coming back.

He stared around at the campgrounds. Nothing but picnic tables... dead leaves... more picnic tables. Nothing that looked remotely like a terror in the night.

Still, that feeling that something was very wrong, wouldn't go away.

He shut his eyes. Damn Aizen for making him so paranoid! The former Hitsugaya would be in bed sleeping, instead of wasting his time to worry over some night scare. What was he anyways, some kind of child who was afraid of the dark? Tch.

Still, when Hitsugaya went back to sleep ten minutes later, he left one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

* * *

.

Verrrry short prelude chapter to the fight ahead. :D


	3. Dragomir of the Shesta

**A/N:** Welcome to chapter 3! ...well I can't think of anything insightful to put here, so just read.

* * *

**Limitations**

Chapter 3: Dragomir of the Shesta

* * *

At the Karakura Wildlife Preserve, a teacher's voice rang out over the sounds of an energetic high-school crowd. The event of the day was about to start. 

"...So basically kids, no running, climbing, pushing, destroying wildlife, or causing trouble... No, Keigo, you may NOT put lingerie on the trees... I don't CARE what kind of tradition it is. Are there any more questions?" The teacher peered around. "All right, then let's start hiking!"

* * *

Dragomir peered down out of the high, sturdy maple branches that were his road through the forest. Below him, the crowd of high-schoolers started trickling down the trailway in small groups. Their heads were the most visible part of them. Black, brown and lighter hair colors passed beneath his feet, occasionally glinting in the morning sunlight, and idle chatter glinted in and out of his ears in the same way. 

Among this array of heads, he had no trouble picking out his target. The group this Hitsu-fellow was in stuck out like a sore thumb... a sore, rainbow thumb. If the violently colored assortment of reds, oranges, whites, and blue-pitched blacks hadn't caught his eye, then the bald guy would still have made them a dead giveaway. The freak's bare scalp was shining like a miniature version of the sun.

Oh well. Not that he could complain. His hairstyle wasn't exactly subtle, either.

Soundlessly, the man slipped onto a lower level of branches, and adjusted his gloves. He skimmed a hand over his own jagged yellow hair. Sparks leapt up wherever his fingers touched.

The Hitsu-brat, his group leading up the rear, passed right underneath him. He looked small and vulnerable from this angle. Dragomir snapped his fingers, and a fray of sparks jumped from his hands with a soft popping noise. He was careful to make it so that only the boy could hear.

The kid jerked and froze. "Matsumoto." An orange haired and rather well-endowed woman, turned to him. "Did you-- hear something?"

"Hear something?" She glanced around, briefly. Luckily, his sparks had not caught her attention. "Geez, taichou, you've been antsy all day. We're practically on break, for crying out loud! Learn to have some fun for a change."

"If by 'fun' you mean sake binges with Ikkaku and Straw-hat, then thanks but no thanks," Hitsugaya commented dryly as his fukutaichou pouted. "Whatever. I guess it was just my imagination."

Dragomir just watched as the woman ran up ahead. Before his brat got too far, he released another tiny fray.

-pop!-poppop!-pop!-

"That's it. I definitely heard something just now!" muttered the shinigami, whirling around.

"Taichou! Come oooon, they're leaving us behind!"

He waved her off. "You go on ahead, Matsumoto, I'll meet up with you." The woman shrugged and walked on ahead. Good boy, thought the man in the trees, smirking. The kid couldn't have done better if he'd practiced.

* * *

Further into the Karakura 'great wilderness trek', a group of seeming high-school students hiked on ahead. The trail crunched mutely underneath their feet, and the cheerful mishmash of their conversation barely shook the thick, forested blanket of quiet all around. Everything here seemed hushed. 

Everything, that is, save the unmuteable voice of one raven-haired shinigami.

"I-chi-GO!"

BWAM.

"What the hell was THAT for, you crazy woman?!" yelled her target, clapping a hand to the fresh footprint that had just been planted on his face.

"That," Rukia pronounced icily, "was for leaving me behind at the picnic tables! Baka!" She punctuated her shout with another flying roundhouse kick.

"Well that wouldn't have HAPPENED if you hadn't sat there for fifteen minutes like a zombie trying to memorize that stupid bunny rabbit!" Ichigo yelled angrily, holding the new bruise on his elbow.

"It was for my sketchbook, moron!"

"Your 'sketchbook'? Is that what you call that bundle of waste paper? Wait," said Ichigo, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper, "you have a whole book full of those?"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?! Don't look so freaked out!" An irate-looking Rukia wiped the offending expression neatly off his face with one of her Rocket-Fueled Fists of Artistic Fury. (Ichigo had gotten to know both quite well over the past few months... not by his own choice, either.)

After flying back several feet, the boy landed beside a pair of designer shoes and pants far too well-tailored to be brought on a hike. Their wearer nosed up his glasses, which glinted in an annoyingly stuck-up way. "Are you always this unwise, Kurosaki?"

"...Shutup, Ishida."

"Sorry...but to be honest is the Quincy way."

A few nerves went 'pwik' on the back of a certain orange scalp. "Really? ...Cause it so happens that to beat up stuffed-up pretty boys is the Kurosaki way."

_Wow_, Ichigo thought, _that sounded a lot lamer in real life than in my head._

"Interesting." Thankfully, Uryu merely let his face settle into a deadpan. The Quincy knew his friend's pride had already taken enough of a beating... not to mention, he didn't feel like getting into a fight without his own powers. Still, he didn't understand why a guy like Ichigo who had taken on half of Soul Society single-handedly would let himself get beaten up by an ninety pound gigai.

_Well, then again..._ thought the Quincy with an inward smirk, _I do have my suspicions._

Ishida watched Ichigo, who was glancing at Rukia again. He wondered if Ichigo really knew how often he did that. Probably not. The guy had been doing it more and more lately, and Ishida's sharp eyes couldn't help but observe. Not that Uryu really cared about other peoples' business, but...

_You'd better not fall for her, Kurosaki,_ he found himself thinking._ There's just no way it can end well between a human and a shinigami..._

* * *

"WHO'S UP THERE? COME OUT!" shouted Hitsugaya. 

Above him, a spiky yellow haired man in a similiar-colored bodysuit laughed and flashed into view high in the branches. The boy's eyes widened in shock.

"Wow, your voice is even higher than I thought," muttered the other figure in a peculiarly accented voice. "Have you hit puberty yet? Because it would be pretty lame to fight a preteen."

Hitsugaya was glaring icicles at the man from below.

"Repeat what you just said." His voice was flat– but it carried promises of a long and painful death.

"I said, it'd be lame to fight a frickin' PRETEEN." The stranger grinned. "You aren't one, are you?"

If looks could freeze, this guy would be one big, nasty block of ice right now. Because no one, no one, said something like that to Hitsugaya Toushiro– especially TWICE– and lived. The shinigami forced his voice to sound even as he shed his gigai.

"Fight me. I will show you what happens to people who underestimate a shinigami captain."

The spiky yellow-haired young man wondered if that word, 'captain', was supposed to mean something. Not that it would pose a problem for him. "All right, brat, if you insist. But remember... you asked for it!"

They rushed.

"HYAAAAAAAAH!"

* * *

It took some minutes, but finally Ichigo and Rukia had chilled out enough to not have to walk on opposite sides of the road. The former's bruises were already starting to heal, thanks to his strong spirit energy. Which was nice, because he really didn't want to have to explain that footprint on his face to the other classmates when they got back to camp. 

Actually, this really wasn't so bad, Ichigo thought later as he trailed behind the others through the leaves and the soft autumn light. In fact, it was rather... peaceful. He'd never admit it, but missed times like this. Quiet times, back before he'd become entangled with Soul Society. Before he'd started fighting death-matches every other day. Before his family had been put in the 'line of fire', so to speak.

But that would also mean... before he'd met her.

Rukia. His eyes rested on the petite shinigami's profile, with its stubborn yet delicate features and indiscernable eyes. In spite of their persistent fighting, she seemed so... _different_ from when they'd first met. It almost felt like he'd known her forever... or as long as any of his other friends, at the very least.

Although he wasn't sure if they could even be called 'friends', he thought, scuffling his feet a little. Sure, he'd saved her, but he'd owed her a debt... and paid it back. That was probably all she thought. After all, the only reason Rukia could possibly have for rejoining the human world was that some lousy bureaucrat in the Gotei 13 had ordered her to.

He sighed. It wasn't like him to worry about boring semantics like 'friends' or 'not friends', anyways. In Ichigo's world, either you were, or you weren't something. And that was that.

So, what made him think so differently when it came to Rukia?

"Ichigo."

"What."

"I have something to tell you." Rukia was glancing at him funnily. "But first... is there something on my face? Why do you keep staring at me like that?

Ichigo flushed uncharacteristically as Rukia's violet eyes met his, and looked off the other way. "What? I wasn't staring at--" Whoops. Well he had been sort of looking her way. "Ah, forget it. It's nothing."

Must be this stupid uphill hike getting to him, the boy told himself. That would explain the rush of blood to his face. Maybe his real body wasn't as in shape as his spirit form. He made a quick mental note to train harder during his off time.

He let out a small breath. "So. What were you gonna say?"

Rukia eyed him; he was definitely acting strange. If this news weren't so important, she would have put it off. She checked to make sure they were a good distance from the rest of the students.

"It's about your Hollow, Ichigo."

He didn't stop her, so she plowed on.

"The Soul Society does not think you are a liability..."

"Cheh. You kidding me?"

"Well," she admitted flatly, "Not that you aren't notorious for wrecking half of Sereitei; but they haven't ordered anyone to 'do anything' about your Hollow yet, so they must trust you to manage it. For now at least."

"'Do anything'? What does that mean?"

Rukia looked away, suddenly looking reluctant to face him.

"Normally, the Soul Society dispatches a squad to... eliminate... those they deem as threats. You are not one of them, but you are on their 'watch list'."

Ichigo was silent for a moment. "So what you're saying is, if I ever lose control of this thing, they'll take me out."

"...yes."

"Huh." He looked at the ground ahead, not walking.

"Rukia– "

He turned his head to ask another question, but the look in her eyes made him lose his train of thought. Though her face was perfectly neutral, those violet orbs were shimmering with something like... fear.

Something inside of him broke at that look. Why? It couldn't be for him. He needed to say something, anything to get that stupid emotion out of her eyes.

"Really, Rukia," he said loudly, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back on bent arms. "And here I thought you were gonna say something important. I made up my mind ages ago. I'm not gonna let something as weak as a Hollow annoy me when we're about to fight Aizen."

Rukia sensed the toughness in his voice was a lie. She smiled, if only for Ichigo's sake.

"I know you won't," she returned lightly. "Baka."

Ichigo seemed to relax a little. "Anyways, Urahara would probably finish me off with his frikkin' cane before Soul Society ever– AAH!"

Out of nowhere, a wave of reiatsu like a brick wall slammed into them. The two shinigami were thrown into the dirt.

"W-what was that?"

Rukia was already on her feet as Ichigo pulled himself up. "That's Hitsugaya-taichou's reiatsu..." her eyes narrowed, "And something else. I can't place it. He must have encountered a fight."

"A fight?" Ichigo said incredulously. "Here in the woods?"

"If it is, we don't have time to debate. Come on!" Before the carrot-headed boy could reply, he was punched out of his body, feet barely skimming the ground as they sped towards the site of the strange aura.

* * *

_Somewhere in the woods..._

Renji held out his hand like he was checking for rain. "What the-- spirit energy?? Ichigo and Rukia must have already sensed it."

"Let's go!" Matsumoto, Renji and Ikkaku sprinted off into the trees together, leaving a trail of dust.

"M-M-Matsumoto-oneechan!" screeched Keigo. "Where are you gooooing?"

"Yeah! Renji! Ishida! Don't leave me all alone here with this... loser..." Tatsuki cursed as they vanished from all sight. "Damnit!"

Sparkles appeared magically around Keigo's head as he struck his best 'ladies' man' pose. "Don't worry, Tatsuki-chan! My radiant manliness will protect you from the evils of this treacherous forest!"

Bwam. "OW!"

"Shut up, Keigo," said Tatsuki absently, half-standing on the body of her squirming boyfriend. "We're not gonna let them get away so easily this time. Let's follow."

* * *

"What-ARE-you?" Hitsugaya ground out, deflecting a blast of yellow electricity with a spin of his sword. The impact pushed him back ten feet, dust skidding in the trail his feet dragged. "Are you an-- Arrancar?" He barely leapt to the side as the rock he was standing on exploded, sending off a shockwave of sparks. 

The yellow haired man laughed. "Arrancar? What the hell is that? I'm Dragomir of the Shesta."

"Shes...ta-" Hitsugaya muttered between breaths, racking his brain for any mention of the word. Had he heard of such a group before? It didn't seem to ring a bell. He grasped Hyourinmaru and ran in to strike, but the man-- Shesta-- whatever it was, flashed away from his attack almost lazily. Trails of electricity seemed to flow back into his body.

They were many feet apart now; both stood on rocks facing each other over a wide clearing. Still, Hitsugaya watched his opponent carefully. That flash step the man had performed was no shun-po.

In fact... He'd never felt an energy like that before. It was powerful, no doubt about that, yet it was the exact opposite of what his own reiatsu felt like. Whereas his reiatsu felt like a slight tingling pressure in his mind... this man's energy... it felt almost like a void, or a vacuum. The captain shuddered.

So this is the weird sensation that woke me up last night.

"What do you want with the shinigami?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Hitsugaya set his mouth firmly. "Then I guess you won't tell me until I beat it out of you."

The man's raspy laugh reminded him of metal grating on metal. "Try it... shinigami." The way he drawled the last word made it almost sound like an insult.

Without warning, he shot a bolt of light at Hitsugaya and flashed off the rock. The white-haired boy snapped away with shun-po right before the bolt hit, cracking the rock in two and leaving a deep black crater.

They flashed around each other in the center of the circle, randomly at first, then almost falling into a pattern. Hitsugaya focused on sensing that vacuum-like anti-reiatsu and predicting where his enemy would strike next. He knew the Shesta was doing the same. All around them, dust and sparks made it nearly impossible to see.

Luckily, the Tenth-squad captain was a pretty fast learner.

There. It was like a tug in his mind.

He stepped left and all motion slowed as he rushed and drew Hyourinmaru across thin air, the enemy materializing in the place where his blade was cutting its imaginary path. Just as he'd guessed-- the yellow-haired boy had teleported straight into his sword. Blood spattered in a thin line, as precise as the cut itself. Dragomir's eyes widened in disbelief.

Then everything sped up again and a yellow explosion blasted both of them away in different directions.

FWAM!

Hitsugaya's body arched as it slammed into a rock wall. He collapsed into the dirt. His back was bleeding, something in his chest felt broken and he'd bet his Zanpakutoh's hilt that there was a fracture on the back of his skull.

A break or two wasn't an excuse to lie on his face. He pulled himself up by his sword and wiped the blood that was now dribbling down his chin and neck.

On the other end of the field, Dragomir was stumbling back onto his feet. He looked at least as bad as Hitsugaya himself. Furthermore, sparks seemed to be shooting uncontrollably out of the guy's shoulder.

But the Shesta was undeterred... he was grinning like a madman. "Had enough yet, brat?"

"Enough what?" shot back the white-haired boy. "Enough scratches? You'll have to do better than that to slow me down."

Dragomir grinned that feral grin again, and stretched out his arms. "Are you begging for more? Heh... That's fine with me." The air around him seemed to swirl and darken, and spheres of yellow energy flared up around his wrists. They pulsed and writhed like living creatures, sucking in air and crackling with white streaks of fire.

"How about a taste of my true power, brat?" He arched his arms. "Molniya! Strike, lightning net!"

Hitsugaya blinked. In a single moment, the sky had dimmed. All around him, for as far as the eye could see, a vast net of glowing yellow lines crisscrossed the earth. The white-haired captain narrowed his eyes as the yellow lines shrunk closer together. He jumped, bits of his sandals sizzling away from the contact. There was room to stand... but just barely.

"Interesting," he muttered, preparing to shun-po up from the net.

But what happened next he couldn't have expected. The lines somehow peeled themselves off from their most distant ends. With a single fluid motion, the net suddenly swirled around him, forming an orblike cage of electricity. Six sharp bolts of light stabbed themselves out of the edges straight through Hitsugaya's body.

"HYAAAAAAGHHH!!!" The pain was blinding. Hitsugaya saw white, felt nothing but piercing, mind-shattering agony as the bolts coursed through his abdomen. He dropped his sword.

Dragomir clenched one fist, and the cage closed tighter. The six white bolts shone fiercely, pinning the white-haired shinigami in the center like a captured bug. Whether from pain or from shock, the shinigami slumped over unconscious.

"Mission complete."

"Toushiro!" On one edge of the clearing, Ichigo and Rukia, decked out in shinigami robes, appeared.

Matsumoto, also in full shinigami attire, skidded out from the other. "Taichou?! Hey! Let my captain DOWN, you punk!" She yanked out her sword without hesitation. "Growl, Haineko!"

The yellow-haired man merely laughed and flicked his fingers. He and the caged Hitsugaya vanished in a bright flash.

Haineko's ashes flew through empty air.

"Damnit..." breathed Matsumoto, her sword reforming as Renji and Ikkaku appeared at her side. "We were too late!"

* * *

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**A/N (edit1): **Aw man... I write such bad fluff! In the world of fluff... mine's not even fluff, it's more like that lint you find in your dryer after you've just run a load of laundry. . Which is sad, because IchiRuki is too good a pairing to be mangled. I need to go read some really really sappy romance novels right now (or some good fanfiction!) - grins - All in the name of research, of course.

Want to complain to me, give me fluff-writing tips or possibly encourage me to write faster than an iceberg being melted by a hairdryer? You know how to get my attention. /points to review button/ Thanks!


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